


The Crown Shield

by literal_trash51



Category: Choices: The Royal Masquerade (Visual Novel)
Genre: Action & Romance, Courtly Love, Drama & Romance, F/M, Magic Revealed, Retelling, Royalty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literal_trash51/pseuds/literal_trash51
Summary: The life of a noble bastard is an interesting one indeed. What would court be without the venomous whispers and scandalous rumors? What would life be like if there wasn't always the constant reminder that you are worth nothing and are only here on a royal's altruistic need? Certainly not as interesting as this. Very little can surprise you when you've already seen things at their worst.So why does the appearance of a woman who clearly doesn't know about these questions do just that?[The Royal Masquerade but from the male Crown Shield's POV and with an ending that I feel isn't as rushed as the one on the app - essentially, my own ending]
Relationships: Annalisa/Percival Beaumont, Crown Shield/Main Character (The Royal Masquerade)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	The Crown Shield

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this story follows the same plot as the visual novel on the app, but has a lot of artistic liberties. I do not always use the exact dialogue used in the game and sometimes events happen differently than in the book. The background the Crown Shield has was devised by me using the information given in the book, the Wikia, and other sources. This is a retelling so it will be how I imagine it which won't always be as canon as the book nor what you wanted from the story. If any of the above circumstances bother you too greatly, please don't read solely to leave bad remarks. Constructive criticisms are always appreciated though!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night he's been dreading has finally arrived. If his dreams are anything to go by, it's meant to be the best day of his life. But this is court. When has any day here been the best of his life?

_One would think that the colours and lights laid out like an artist’s life’s work before him would belong to the starry night sky that housed life’s most beautiful and strangest mysteries. But in fact, it belonged to the homes and streets and wagons that dotted the hills and plains to the west of the palace. He wondered if he was honest enough or just slightly inebriated to find that the splendor of the palace paled in comparison to the lushness of the grass the city was built on, the safety of the homes, and the serenity of the river that burbled and flowed while it wound itself between the roads and dips in the plains. He wondered if he was honest enough or just slightly inebriated to admit that all of it paled to the woman standing next to him, admiring it with a twinkle in her eyes that rivalled even the light of the stars that the same river she stared at reflected._

_He turned to look at her again, if only to prove to himself that she was real, and found her already staring up at him – the corners of her mouth already in the beginnings of a smile. He was suddenly overcome with the need to see what her whole face looked like when it smiled without the ornate and glittery detailed blue mask tipped with a feather blocking the way. The only thing that he could be sure of was the fact that her eyes were a liquid gingerbread colour. They looked like they swirled and moved and changed with the emotions that graced her face. And at the moment, they looked enormously pleased._

_“Satisfied?” She asked, but what she meant escaped him. Though he guessed by the fact that he responded without hesitation that he’d already known._

_“I think we’re both aware of what would satisfy me, my lady.” He waited for her to be as appalled by his brazenness as he was, but all he earned was a chuckle. A sweet, tempting chuckle._

_“I know. But is it so easy to believe that someone with more status than I could ever dream of earning would want someone as plain as me? Is it so wrong to fear this is naught but a dream?”_

_Her eyes shifted as she spoke. Their molten and fluid quality hardened. Dimmed almost. Like a light was being snuffed out under a weighty palm. A palm he understood too well. He would not let that light go out so long as he could help it. Without care and without warning, he slipped an arm around her back – high enough to make it clear that he was no miscreant but tight enough and steady enough to make it clear that he wasn’t leaving her. Not now. **Not ever**. This woman he barely knew would have everything he had even if it killed him. He’d ensure it. The beautiful gown she wore that was a shade of blue sapphires hissed in envy for – perhaps even the blue that the sapphires in the necklace and earrings that adorned her craved – would not be her last._

_Her hands quickly moved to embrace him as well. One coming to rest on his right shoulder and the other wrapping itself gently around his neck. He forced himself to withhold the shiver the touch elicited._

_“Is it a dream?” She all but breathed, lips parted and eyes focused on his own. He stared back, watching the hope and fear war with each other behind her irises and silently praying the hope would win._

_It did._

_And he allowed himself one more sentence before leaning down to discover what she tasted like._  
  
_“Let’s make it count if it is…”_

“Merysio…?” _Her eyes stared up at him in what he could only describe as awe but her body responded eagerly, arm moving to further hook itself around his neck while the other moved to the center of his chest._

 _“_ Merysio…” _They were on his lips now, watching them eagerly and triggering her own tongue to wet hers in anticipation. He could breathe out and his breath would fan across her face. All she had to do was lean up and kiss him. He would not take that choice from her. He may want her, but he knew that no matter what he felt, he was in a position where he could take advantage of her and he had to make sure he never exerted that power. It only took a second before she leaned her head up just a fraction more and–_

“ **Merysio!** ”

He blinked once before snapping his gaze to his left, scanning the Queen’s face for any signs of distress and finding only amusement and humour. He let his eyes roam her posture to look for any signs of discomfort and still only found that same amusement. Amusement drawn from him. He swept his gaze across the room in a brief security assessment that yielded no strange results. Everything was seemingly fine if his three second assessment was anything to go on. So why…?

“Yes, Queen Kendra?”

“Would you like a pillow to accompany those dreams? Or will a measly chair do?” The sarcasm and amusement in her tone was unmistakable. He decided to return her playful jabs with his own jokes.

“Why, whatever do you mean, Your Majesty?” He asked, widening his eyes in an owlish manner and clinging onto as much innocence as he could muster. She was too used to his tricks to even scowl. She simply chuckled and shook her head.

“This is the _third_ time I’ve caught you in another world, Merysio. People will begin to think I don’t treat you well as my Crown Shield if you can only find respite while on duty in the _throne room_. Why the absence in thought today?”

“Who’s to say Lady Mara’s story isn’t to blame for my mental absence?”

“Me, because Lady Mara left a teatime ago,” she chided though her outrage was clearly mocked. Her eyes simply danced with a certain knowing and amusement that he couldn’t quite place. And that made him quite unsettled.

“Ah,” was all he could think to say. It was either that or admit to stupid fantasies that were plaguing his mind to the queen of Cordonia. He wasn’t so stupid as to believe his rapport with Queen extended towards personal matters as well. However, the knowing in her eyes gave way to a knowing grin and she gestured for the guards at the door to come closer. They immediately did and took a knee before her.

“How might we help you, Your Majesty?” They asked in unison.

“One of you is to take the Crown Shield’s place at my side and the other is to find another guard to stand at attention at the door with them. Would that be possible?” The innocence in her voice could easily be likened to a wolf in sheep’s wool.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the guards chimed before rising and bowing deeply. The one, who Merysio could tell was Archibald, moved towards him, while the other, Reginald, moved towards the door again.

“Why, might I ask, is this necessary, Your Majesty?” He asked, shoulders tense as Archibald drew closer. He had nothing against him. He just felt discomfort at being forcibly removed from the Queen’s side.

“It’s clear that you’re too far in your own head to be of any use here. So I thought it’d do you good to get out of this stuffy room and actually enjoy yourself,” she replied, a kind smile making it’s way onto her face.

“I must disagree, Your Majesty. It is the Masquerade tonight. People whom we cannot immediately identify will be present. There are enough security risks present in the palace without the looming threat of a literal masked aggressor to add in. It is best if I’m with you to ensure your safety,” he countered. Most of him had said this because he was indeed worried for her safety. A small sliver of himself, however, said it because he refused to be mocked by the others for being sent out by the Queen because of some silly daydream.

“Well you’ll be of no use to me if you’re all the way across the ocean should something happen, now will you?” Fond exasperation clung to her words and he felt himself release the fight in him a tad bit. The Queen never fought fair in these conversations did she?

“If it really unsettles you to not be tasked with some form of protection, think of what I’m doing as me commanding you to inspect the ball and ensure no threatening characters lurk amongst the crowds. Is that better?”

Refusing to make a further mockery of himself in front of his guards, he nodded firmly, bowing his head in acceptance.

“Oh don’t look so hurt. You might actually be glad I kicked you out if you give it a chance,” she chuckled, the amusement from before returning with full force.

Indeed, the Queen did not fight fair.

With a deep bow, Merysio started towards the door but was stopped by Queen Kendra’s call.

“Wait, take this!”

In her hand was an ornate crescent moon mask with grooves and ridges in it that almost made it look like it was nestled upon a hilly landscape that overlooked a blue lake. The small sapphire gemstones embedded on the one side could have been stars or pools or _both_. He noted that it would only cover half his face too – perfect for blending in while still being recognizable by his fellow guards. He looked to the Queen’s face for confirmation that she wanted him to use it and found a warm smile awaiting him.

He slipped it on and it fit almost as though it was tailored for him. The thought made him scowl in thought at the Queen, her smile gaining a mischievous edge to it in response.

“I’ll return it by the end of the night,” he called as he walked towards the door that Reginald held open.

“Keep it! It’s yours,” she called back. He pretended not to hear her as he stepped into the hall and made his way towards the ballroom.

When he reached the double doors that led onto the upper stairwell the Queen usually descended from, he gestured to the guards to have them crack it open just enough for him to slip through. Once inside, he took a moment to absorb his surroundings.

A Quartert's soothing song was flooding the room with a relaxing and engaging atmosphere. If people weren't occupying themselves with the delicious foods the palace chefs had laid out on the various tables around the room, they were standing together in groups, laughing at some poor servant's misfortune as one of them told a 'hilarious' story. The dancefloor had several couples strewn across it, dancing in slow waltzes and wrapping themselves around each other as much as was deemed socially acceptable. To the untrained eye, it looked like a glamorous event with people living a life one would kill for.

To _his_ eyes, it was another day in a grievous pit of intrigue.

The dancing couples were glancing over each other's shoulders at lovers they had had secret rendezvous' with a few nights prior. The people huddled in groups were hoping to gain themselves a powerful ally by laughing at stories and ostentatious displays of wealth or were trying to remain on the right side of high society by doing so. Those at the tables were taking their break from all the lies and sweet nothings they had told in order to be viewed as an important member of this court - the masks they wore normally to court falling off if only for a minute before being secured tightly into place.

And here he stood hoping to find a woman he was seemingly attracted to in _this_ lion's den. He must've finally lost his sanity.

For whatever reason, his dreams had been taunting him with the image of the woman he didn’t know for the past week leading up to the Masquerade. And since it was clear they were caused by it, he believed that somehow being present for it would get rid of them - hence his being in the throne room rather than on the perimeter screening guests. No such luck. He was beginning to think the universe was playing a cruel joke on him. Nonetheless, he let his eyes scan through the crowd for a trace of the shade of blue that his dreams had ingrained into him. A shade he’d learned was called admiral. Apt that he was admiring the color on her, wasn’t it? When he found none he willed the disappointment to fade. It was ludicrous to get upset over something a dream had promised him.

With a new purpose, he made his way down the staircase and towards a table laden with gourmet desserts and sweet treats. He’d at least learn something of interest if Her Majesty was going to make him _actually_ attend such an event.

While pretending to consider just what desserts to put on his plate, Merysio listened in on the conversation a pair of noble ladies were having.

“I can’t believe the Queen would let it happen!”

“Well, technically, she’s not letting anything happen. She’s invited them to present themselves to the other houses. It’s really up to them whether they make it in or not.”

_Ah, they're talking about the house Queen Kendra had deemed eligible to form part of the noble houses of Cordonia. What was it’s name again?_

“House Rosario must have something worthwhile if even _the Queen_ thought to elevate them.”

_That’s the one._

“I hear they bought the Queen’s loyalty what with them being a merchant house to start.”

_Highly unlikely. The Queen was against corruption of any kind. Her hope was to create equality. Not line her pockets while doing so._

“She’s a Queen. How much money could they have that she doesn’t?”

“Not with money, silly! With _influence_. I hear they offered to garner the public’s support on whatever bills she aims to pass if she elevated them.”

_Again, unlikely. The people love their queen. She doesn’t need a noble house’s help to earn that._

“Could it be possible they bribed her with someone of… virtue?”

_…What?_

“Ally!” the woman hissed to her companion.

“I’m just saying! I would do a lot of things if I had the chance to be in bed with _Haylio_.” The pair dissolved into lovestruck sighs and turned their attentions to the man himself…

Who was surrounded by a hoarde of admirers.

“I’m sure you remember how our last time together went, don’t you?” One not-so-subtly shouted to the girls that clawed for his attention.

“Why do something that’s _old_ , when you can try something _new_?” Another simpering girl asked. It took all Merysio’s strength to not groan aloud. Of course. It can’t be a royal event if there isn’t a gaggle of girls throwing themselves senselessly at Haylio’s feet.

Haylio is heir to House Fierro and Queen Kendra’s clear favorite among the noble houses. The word is that because Queen Kendra never had any children of her own, she planned to make Haylio her heir. She had told him on one occasion while they were speaking about new security arrangements to be made around the palace and there had been such pride and warmth in her voice that he was inclined to believe he was the obvious choice.

Now, he wasn’t so sure. Though in all fairness, some flocked to him because they thought him handsome while others did it in hopes that they’d carry his child and thus become queen whenever he inevitably ascended the throne. The man could have whichever girl his heart desired and all of them would be willing to be with him. Merysio struggled to understand the feeling.

“Announcing Lady Annalisa Rosario, and company, of House Rosario,” the herald shouted over the din. It didn’t seem like anyone had bothered to spare a glance, but he knew better than to take things at face value at court. He knew every eye cast themselves towards the newly announced partygoers, his own included. What he couldn’t have predicted was the way he heard some noble ladies gasp in astonishment and envy. Nor the way some men fumbled with their partner’s hands as they turned to get a look at the new beauty. Nor the fact that the woman causing the silent uproar was the one who was stalking his dreams.

The same admiral blue dress he’d seen not long ago in the throne room stood in the doors to the ballroom, but now he could see every detail of it. The swooping neckline that boasted a fine collarbone and teased a full chest, the chain of sapphires surrounding the bodice, the white underskirt that was touched with gold and blue and the faintest traces of silver, the ruffles at the sleeves that suggested an explosive personality, and finally, the ornate blue mask with the feather in it – a feather he felt resembled a scribe’s quill. The woman was breathtaking in real life. No dream could do her justice.

And that woman was _not_ Lady Annalisa Rosario. She was part of the company. How could he tell? Because she marveled at the ballroom’s décor and interior the way everyone marveled at her. She seemed so taken by the atmosphere and splendor that she didn’t seem to notice Annalisa’s pull on her arm. The pair shared a giggle before making their way further into the room. As they moved, more questions grew in his mind.

_Why was she so struck by everything? Who could she be to be so struck? How could she have gotten in if it’s clear she’s not someone who should be here if she’s so struck?_

By now he’d abandoned the dessert table and slinked off to the sides to observe her more closely. He watched as she picked up a small loaf of bread from a basket a servant carried and practically fell apart as she took a bite out of it. The bliss on her face was so innocent and pure to the point of almost seeming naïve. That innocence and purity gave way to a need to protect her. To protect her from the viper’s den that court could be and ensure she never become a part of it either. A need that had also arisen because he’d noticed she was one of the few people of darker skin tone in a room full of fair and pale-skinned beauties.

He moved along the sides to avoid looking suspicious while searching for an opportunity to speak to her. No longer because she was literally the woman of his dreams, but because she presented far too many questions to their security to let slip by.

That opportunity came when Annalisa bid her goodbye and disappeared into the throng of people. He didn’t spare too much thought on where she was going. She wasn’t his target. He calculated the distance between them and waited for a gap in the crowd to be able to make his way over to her, but just as it appeared, her eyes locked with Haylio’s across the room.

_Oh, great._

She looked similar to a deer that’s been cornered by a hunter, all wide-eyed and shocked when she looked at him. Merysio wasn’t sure what was making her feel like that, but he knew that whatever hope he had for this dream to fulfil itself and leave him in peace had been sufficiently dashed. He watched Haylio push past his adoring crowd and bring himself to a stop in front of her. He couldn’t hear a word of what was being said, but he didn’t miss the way he reached for her hand and kissed it. Or the way she seemed to flush at the contact.

_May the heavens save her from his wiles._

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes and attempt to find his way into some shadowed alcove so he could sulk in peace. He ducked his head down and weaved his way through the crowd towards the balcony he always roosted in when he was on ballroom duty, making sure to watch his steps and his shoulders to avoid colliding with anyone. However, when the balcony came into his view, so did a pair of gingerbread eyes in a golden bronze, oval-shaped face. As well as the heart-shaped, heavy lower-lipped mouth that accompanied them. Her eyes caught his at the same moment and time almost heaved to a stop with how entrancing it felt to look at her. He almost had to remind himself to breathe.

Without thinking, as he seemed to stop doing around her anyway, he approached her – face schooled into an impassive and neutral expression that gave nothing away despite the frantic beating of his heart.

“You’ve made quite the mysterious appearance,” he said, eyes trained on her face in hopes to pick apart the secrets she was hiding.

“Really? The same could be said of you couldn’t it?” Her voice was smooth and gentle but in no way meek or dainty. She wasn’t some damsel. She could hold her own. Her smile was teasing and mischief lit up her eyes and made them shift in the way he’d dreamed of everyday now. They looked molten. He felt molten. Or maybe that was the flush coming on from being caught out.

“True, but I am meant to be here.”

“Are you saying that I am not?” The light that was there winked out at the thought and he watched her almost shrink in on herself before plastering on a neutral smile.

“Then let me not bother you with my presence.”

He said the first thing he could think of.

“I only mean to say that there are rumors of people sneaking in amongst the nobles and their company,” he did his best to keep his tone neutral and not give way to the slight panic that overcame him at her threat to leave. And yet somehow, she found it in herself to laugh. He cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t find it ironic that people are sneaking in at a masked party and you’re struggling to identify them.”

When she put it like that, he found the corners of his own mouth attempting to twitch upward.

“I find it quite funny as well that your mask hides your face but doesn’t quite mask your intentions. You don’t want me here.”

“I only wish to figure out who you are.”

“And ensure I’m no thief, right?” He stumbled for words at that and simply stared, possibly a little dumbfounded, at her face. As he did, he noticed how she bit her bottom lip tightly and how her eyes almost refused to settle on him too long.

She was joking. It took all his restraint to not laugh along with her. He didn’t know her and as much as his stupid dreams made it seem like they were destined, he wasn’t dumb enough to believe Haylio hadn’t already caught her interest. He wouldn’t compete in a game he knew he couldn’t win. Not even if he wanted to. So with a lot of effort, Merysio convinced himself to stick strictly to business.

“Since you’re no thief, might I see your invite?”

“Uhm… Would you believe me if I said it was with Lady Annalisa?” He wasn’t sure what his face looked like as she asked, but she immediately said, “Of course you wouldn’t, you’re still not convinced I’m not a thief.”

“I wonder what else you can read if you seem to read my face so closely.”

She paused and stared up at him confusedly. Had he said that aloud? Damn it all.

“Excuse me,” she mumbled, hands moving to her skirt to lift it and begin her walk away. And as she made that small movement, something in his mind realised that if he let her walk now, he’d never see her again. And as much as the dreams would cease to plague him, the idea of having been so close to her and yet learning nothing would haunt him from this night onwards. Worse than the dreams ever could. And because of the fear of the haunting she would bring if he didn’t take this risk now, Merysio threw caution to the wind.

“May I have this dance?” He stuck his hand out for hers, suddenly yearning for the closeness. She gazed skeptically at it and at his face, but still willingly put her hand in his. The second he felt her warm palm through his gloved fingers, he felt a sense of peace. Like her hand in his was right.

He led her towards the dance floor but as he did, he caught Haylio’s figure as he stood next to it, poised to make his way towards the woman of his dreams as well. When he noticed her hand in someone else’s, he stopped, but his eyes never left her face. As the pair of them drew near, he bowed his head and offered her a charming smile.

“Enjoy your dance, my lady,” his tone was like silk and he watched her flush under its appraisal. Some part of him disliked how easily Haylio could affect her while he had to fight to not ward her off, but he reminded himself that he’d been trained to do it. It was as much a part of him as guarding was to himself. When Haylio’s eyes met his own, however, they were not as coy and smug as they normally were. Now they’re slightly stern. Challenging even.

_And so an unofficial gauntlet has been thrown. Splendid. How is the Crown Shield to fair against the undeclared heir to a country? Pretty sure the bards could tell you how this one goes._

But despite the clear intentions behind the stare, Merysio found it in himself to remain courteous. He would not become what he disliked.

With a few more strides, they’d made it to the floor and he gently guided her hands into position for the Cordonian Waltz. Curiosity painted her features as she watched him do it and a subtle sort of excitement lit her eyes. He found it more endearing than he should’ve. In time with the Quartet, he began to lead her through the steps. He’d expected for her to stumble and maybe take off a few of his toes but she followed him with ease, with grace. She looked as though she was made for this dance.

“A viscount’s daughter?” He asked unprompted. She blinked before responding.

“What?”

“Are you a viscount’s daughter?”

“Oh, you’re playing a guessing game are you? Well then, I’ll play along. No.” Her smile was luminous as she stared up at him in wait and the smile that she’d long since earned from him threatened to come back. He swallowed it with a huff.

“Your grace on this floor is unmatched by any noble lady I’ve had the unfortunate chance of leading.”

“That’s quite rude isn’t it?” She asked, though her smirk suggested it was anything but.

“Trust me, my toes thank you for it.” He got a chuckle for that. A sweet, encompassing chuckle. The sound made it feel like he was out in nature and not cooped up in some palace.

“The fact that everyone turned to stare means you’re either not from here or new. A foreign dignitary’s wife perhaps?”

“Wife?” She almost shouted, amusement radiating from her in rays as she let her head tip back in quiet laughter. “I’m not married, sir.”

“’Tis a pity.”

“Whyever would it be?”

“Men truly must be stupid if they have looked at you and not decided to become honest then and there.”

“You flatter me,” she replied, cheeks flushing even as she grinned unabashedly up at him. The sight warmed him from deep within his stomach. This woman felt like home. And he hadn’t felt like he’d been home since being taken into the barracks.

Without warning, he brought her close to his own body and began the steps for a sequence of twirls and spins that he’d watched countless couples do for their weddings. He waited for her to stumble or tell him to stop, but all she did was laugh in sheer delight and match him step for step. Even going as far as leaning her weight to the side in request. Without hesitation, he dipped her, watching her stare up at him breathless with a giddy smile – a smile that made him just as breathless.

“A princess,” he whispered. Not because he thought that was what she was, but because that’s what she felt like. That’s what she looked like. That’s what she deserved to be.

“I’m very sure there isn’t a princess alive who he eats bread the way I do.” And that’s what got him to chuckle. It slipped passed his defenses. But the sound seemed to entrance her because she stared up at him quietly. He realised that he still had her dipped and brought her up until they were standing but a few steps apart.

“Who are you really?” He could here the Quartet’s song fading and realised he’d let the chance to get to know her escape him. He cursed himself for being so easily sidetracked. She paused and gazed reluctantly into the distance.

“Someone who’s going to have her knuckles rapped with a ruler,” he heard her mutter in slight panic and the words brought on a rush of feelings.

For a brief moment, he was out in the the stables grooming his favorite horse while the Master of Horse yelled something at him. For a moment he was young, small, and tired and unable to defend himself from the tittering comments he could hear in the garden. For a moment he was in another lifetime. And then all at once he was back at the ball, watching as the woman of his dreams made to walk away from him.

Who was keeping score of how many times he had acted without thinking? He surely wasn’t because he added another one to the tally.

“How about we make a deal?”

She raised a questioning eyebrow, but said, “I’m listening.”

“I’ll stop with my games. If you let me guess who you are, I’ll let you guess who I am. We can escape from the party as well. Onto the balcony.” He wondered if he sounded as desperate as he felt.

“Are you that desperate to know who I am?” She asked teasingly, but her eyes held genuine intrigue. It abated the pulse that had picked up at being called out on his actions.

“For whatever reason, I just can’t bring myself to pull away from you. So I might as well know just who it is has captured me so,” he admitted, his chest aching slightly at being so honest with someone he didn’t know. It felt weird... And yet, freeing. Though some part of him nagged that being vulnerable would only come back to haunt him.

“Then lead the way.” He needed no further encouragement as he once again took her hand in his, and guided her to the balcony he had been shooting for earlier. The doors were open and the curtains were billowing outwards into the calm breeze that kissed their faces when they stepped through them. He watched her eyes marvel at the beauty of its design while he removed his gloves and placed them in a pocket inside his jacket.

Then he did the strangest thing.

His hands quickly held onto her waist before hoisting her into the air and twirling the both of them around. The laughter that escaped her was practically musical. Her entire face was aglow with a glee and happiness he’d only ever seen on the face of children. It brought out the childlike joy in him too. And he hated to admit it, but he liked it. He set her down gently and marveled at how that joy only increased when she looked at his face. For whatever reason, he enjoyed seeing that joy – and being the one to cause it. All he wanted to know is who it was he was bringing such happiness.

“Can I ask you something? You need only answer yes or no.”

She nodded without question and stared up at him as he took her hands in his own and glided his thumbs across her knuckles.

“The awe and joy on your face as you look at everything can only suggest that you’re not used to any of this which can only mean that you’re not from the nobility here. The fact that you speak with a Cordonian accent means you’re not foreign royalty either. You are new to all of this but still Cordonian.

“Your hands have calluses. Right in the place a quill would be. And considering that there’s a feather on your mask that resembles that of a great writer, I can only come to one conclusion. Are you a scribe?”

“I am, good sir,” she admitted, face flushing even as she looked at him in awe. He allowed himself a small half-smile at that.

“That must have been a boost to your ego, huh?” She chuckled, but he immediately wiped the smile from his face. Egos were never good thing. Not in court. He refused to have her think he was one of _them_.

“It’s your turn, my lady.”

“Alright, but bear with me, I tend to dawdle when I think out loud.” She pouted as she looked up at him, eyes scanning his face as though she’d figure out his story in the details of it.

“Okay. So I know you must be part of the royal guard since you were oh so concerned with whether I had an invite or not. But you were more in costume than other guards so you must be very high ranking. Maybe one of the Queen’s Honour Guard? That would explain why you’d have to blend in. Can’t spy if everyone knows who you are, can you?” He chuckled and brought her one hand up to kiss the back of it, not saying a word as he did. She watched him with piqued interest, but said nothing either. He let himself admire the smell of vanilla and cedarwood that came off her as she continued speaking.

“Right, uhm,” she stumbled, trying to tune out his touch it would seem, “You dance very well so you have to be a part of the court in some way despite your guard ranking. Maybe _you’re_ the viscount’s daughter! Ah well, there’s no viscount I can remember that looks quite like you so that’s unlikely. Hmmm… Your mask is actually very detailed and quite unique, so you must be someone important. Part of a really high noble house maybe?

“But if you’re part of the court and so high in it too, why are you in guard’s uniform? Why aren’t you in some fancy suit?”

At first he thought that was her final question and was about to remind her that it had to be a ‘yes or no’ type of question, but before he could move to speak, she stared up at him openly and asked:

“Are you the black sheep of the family?” He felt a hollow smile makes its way onto his face at the familiar name.

“It seems I’m not the only observant one here,” he mumbled as he reluctantly released her hands as he turned himself and her to face the railing and look over the countryside - so that she couldn’t see the sordid memories threatening to overwhelm him.

One would think that the colours and lights laid out like an artist’s life’s work before him would belong to the starry night sky that housed life’s most beautiful and strangest mysteries. But in fact, it belonged to the homes and streets and wagons that dotted the hills and plains to the west of the palace. He wondered if he was honest enough or just slightly inebriated to find that the splendor of the palace paled in comparison to the lushness of the grass the city was built on, the safety of the homes, and the serenity of the river that burbled and flowed while it wound itself between the roads and dips in the plains. He wondered if he was honest enough or just slightly inebriated to admit that all of it paled to the woman standing next to him, admiring it with a twinkle in her eyes that rivalled even the light of the stars that the same river she stared at reflected.

“I was once told that the stars hold our fate,” he found himself saying when he realised that this was similar to the dream that plagued him for the past week. “I never believed it. If that was the case, those that wished upon them the hardest would have the best fates. And yet, it’s those with less than enough that marvel at the stars' power every night. We write our own destinies in my eyes. But what about in your eyes?”

He turned to look at her again, if only to prove to himself that she was real, and found her already staring up at him – the corners of her mouth in the beginnings of a frown. He was suddenly overcome with the need to see what her whole face looked like when it moved without the ornate and glittery detailed blue mask tipped with a feather blocking the way. The only thing that he could be sure of was the fact that her eyes were a liquid gingerbread colour. And at the moment, they looked slightly unsure of themselves.

“I’m unsure of what to believe in. I don’t know if I could choose my own fate. My fate thus far has let me be a scribe.”

“And yet you changed your fate once. By coming here. By being here despite what you thought was destined for you. I’d like to believe that you could do it whenever you wanted.” He turned to face her as he said it, his hand reaching up to stroke the side of her face. He would’ve withdrawn it in disgust with himself for doing so without her permission, but didn’t have the chance to as she leaned into his touch.

For a moment, he wondered whether the stars did indeed hold his fate. If this meeting was fated. If what happens between them is fated. For a moment he wanted to believe, if only because it would mean she wouldn’t be gone after tonight.

The thought felt like a blow to the chest. Would he see her again after tonight? What if he didn’t? Could he live with never knowing how those lips he kept dreaming of kissing tasted?

“Can I remove your mask?” He whispered, scared to disturb this moment in anyway. She looked at him with slightly parted lips and nodded. With ease, he slipped both hands onto the sides of the mask and pulled it off. And for a while, he just stared.

She was… _A goddess_. No dream prepared him for the full force of her beauty. No dream had told him that the beautiful face that looked up at him would be accented so beautifully by the braided afro bun her hair was in. Nothing in general had prepared him for this, and he knew it showed in his face.

“…Beautiful,” he felt himself whisper and a flush darkened her cheeks, somehow making her more appealing than she already was.

Her hands skimmed lightly up his jaw, caressing his face sweetly as they brushed the sides of his mask. She pulled them away shyly and he had to fight the urge that encouraged him to catch them and keep them on his face.

“Can I…?” He nodded just barely as he watched her face studiously. Suddenly he felt seventeen again with the fear and nervousness of whether a girl would find him attractive or not. Plenty of noblewomen had offered to show him what being part of the nobility would feel like – by which he meant they threw themselves shamelessly on him in hopes that he’d want them. But none had ever looked him dead in the eye and told him he was worth looking at. No one in general ever had except…

His mask was off before he could realise it and she was staring up at his face in disbelief. He wondered whether she was disappointed by what she saw. If she could see the half-blood in him. But to his astonishment, she whispered:

“You are the most _beautiful_ man I have ever seen.”

He floundered. Mainly because the only thought pervading in his mind was: _She likes me!_ But also because he was waiting for her to disappear or to reject him or to run off or to insult him or to do anything that would make this moment shatter like stained glass.

But she didn’t.

She only beamed up at him with a light in her face that was intoxicating and encompassing and suddenly he realised just how close she was. How easy it would be to pull her into his grasp. How easily he could kiss her. How easily he could have her if he just closed the gap. He realised just how plush her lips looked and how badly he wanted to know what they tasted like. He realised, yet again, that she was a goddess.

And to top it all off, she seemed just as eager to be reckless as he did because her eyes suddenly darkened with lust. Her lips were parted and before he knew it, she was taking a step toward him. He did the same and hooked an arm around the small of her back – careful to make it loose enough that if she wanted to slip out, she could. But the way her arms looped themselves around his neck suggested that he wasn’t going to be afforded the same courtesy. Not that he minded. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here.

“Say the words and you have it. Anything you want, everything you want,” he breathed, the ability to form coherent sentences leaving him as her breath fanned his face. It smelled like fresh bread and only further deepened his want for her.

“And what if all I want is you?” She whispered, her eyes no longer bothering to look at his, their focus solely on his lips. He struggled to keep himself from groaning.

“Say it,” was all he could say as their lips just barely brushed each other. He wanted her. More than anything. But it _had_ to be her choice.

“I–"

“My lady, you must help me!” A man in traditional 'Head of Staff' clothing came bustling onto the balcony, eyes frantic and pace harried. He noticed the pair’s entanglement, however, and immediately looked off to the side and coughed. Merysio wanted to send him over the balcony, but the woman in his arms merely gave an exasperated sigh before chuckling. With a meaningful look up at him, she disentangled herself from him and turned to face the man.

“What’s wrong, Vasco?”

“I was looking through our invitations to show to a royal guard and realised that instead of giving your sister, Lady Annalisa, our house debut invite, I gave her our regular ball invite! I would go to her and redeem the mistake and tender my resignation immediately, but she’s already headed for the throne room and I cannot enter that wing. You must assist me!”

_Ah, so she’s House Rosario then. I heard rumors of Lady Annalisa’s adopted sister. I just never thought it’d be her. But there is no house better suited for her than the house of wit and wile._

“Alright, let’s go stop this faux pas,” she chuckled even as she stuck her hand out for the correct invite.

“Before you leave Miss Rosario, can I at least have your name?” This had to be the hundredth impulsive thing he’d done tonight alone, but he was far past caring. He just had to know the name of the woman who’d taken him like this.

“Arinia. And yours?” She asked with a bright smile over her shoulder.

“Merysio,” he smiled back. A truly unabashed and undeterred smile. Her name was heavenly and well suited. Hell, now he _knew_ her name. The woman that had taunted him all week and all night finally had a name. And it was _Arinia_.

“’Till we meet again, Merysio,” she said as she curtsied to him. He bowed back even as his entire brain faltered for a moment.

He wanted to hear her say his name again. It had never sounded as beautiful as when it fell from her lips. He’d always disliked it from the years of it being used to scold and chide him. But now? All he could think of was how warm it made him feel to hear it fall from the mouth of someone so captivating.

He watched her twirl around and swoop back into the ballroom like a graceful hurricane. He wondered whether she knew she was a force to be reckoned with. More so, he wondered what the court would try and do to someone like her – and found himself fearing for the safety of someone else other than the Queen and Haylio. He found that what his dreamself had thought was no different to what he thought now. He'd protect her however he could. He was sure that Haylio and his friends would mock him to no end for the discovery - he was sure Haylio would attempt to posture him into leaving Arinia alone - but for the moment, he was too happy to care for the disastrous inquiry he’d face tomorrow.

He swept into the ballroom himself, the happiest he’d been in a while. Happy to know that he had a name. And not just a name. A name, a face, a House, and a scent. A debilitating scent. Heavens help him, he was done for. There would be no recovery from this then. The woman of his dreams – _Arinia_ – was here to haunt him forever; and he found that he had no problem at all with the prospect. A smile threatened to overwhelm him and steal away his neutral façade but it never got the chance.

A bloodcurdling scream cut it short – and he was already running before it even stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haylio is pronounced: Hay-leo  
> Merysio is pronounced: Mer-reese-io  
> Arinia is pronounced: Uh-rin-nya
> 
> Where did I get them? I made them up really XD But in my head, Haylio means 'giver of sun' and Merysio means 'night's kiss'. Arinia means 'air of guidance'. Where did those meanings come from? Heaven alone knows but that's what went through my mind in my first playthrough so here we are! How do you feel about this chapter? Should I continue with this? Any and all feedback is appreciated! Thank you for reading thus far!


End file.
